


District 80

by orphan_account



Category: Bleach
Genre: Anal Sex, Bathroom Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Gangbang, Oral Sex, Other, Rape, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-11-07 21:18:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17968229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Yoruichi, trying to escape the Soul Society, ends up with people much worse.(Commissioned by Nomorecoca)





	District 80

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't expect to write a Bleach fic, nor a rape fic, nor ugly bastards, nor any of this sort, but that's the nature of commissions. There's a reason why I haven't uploaded this to here until now.

This was Hell.

 

Or, at least, it was the closest to it on Earth, in the slums of District 80. The roads were merely paths where trash was less prominent, and the only places where the scent was halfway tolerable was at a bakery before it would get eventually robbed. There was no reason for anyone to want to be here, and especially not for anyone who worked for the Soul Society.

 

Yet, that’s where Yoruichi was. Ripped disgracefully from her Commander title, she didn’t care if she was in a place like this at all: all that mattered was that she needed to escape the hordes of Shinigami who were hungry for her. She didn’t have any idea how much was on her head, but it was beyond a pretty penny. After all, they did have wanted signs out this far, and with a quick glimpse, she observed how much was on her head: far too much. 

 

And that was why she wore a cloak; she needed cover. And to make sure that she was as hidden as she could be, before she ran off, she needed her powers reduced (thankfully, with a pill from Urahara, that was easier done than said); the last thing she wanted was to give herself away and for her head to be exposed. Even with as far as she was in the lowest districts, she had to be as cautious as she could.

 

And even then, she had to be wary of the locals: with sandals on her feet, she would be considered luxury, and with her build, she’d be a luxury. Men who looked as bad as they smelled with twisted, piglike countenances turning into smirks whenever they groped her with their gazes dominated these streets. Cutthroats who seemed more thirsty for blood in general than the Soul Society was for hers, with scraps of shady cloaks and shaky hands carrying knives, dominated the alleys. Her cloak had become protection in a second way: she knew that without it, the consequences would be dire enough for her to prefer death. She had to remember that she was vulnerable; in her state, she probably wouldn’t last one battle with anyone here, regardless of their lack of training. It didn’t matter that earlier she had killed a few bounty hunters, which got her further into this mess: she had to play on the defensive now that she was bereft of power.

 

And as an announcement blared on what little it could be blared on, she felt even more vulnerable.

 

_Attention, District 80. We hate to inform you, but we suspect that a four-star criminal is within your boundaries, and for this reason, we are putting the entire district on lockdown._

 

She stammered and backed into a wall. She looked behind her, to this wall, and her legs quivered the moment that she saw its face. This wasn’t a wall at all: it was another piggish man, and his voice sounded pathetic.

 

“Watch where you’re going.”

 

Yoruichi stayed silent; she didn’t want anyone to hear her, lest they were a shinigami working undercover. There had to be a few if the lockdown happened so quickly.

 

“I _said_ ,” the behemoth bellowed again, “watch where you’re going!”

 

Before she had time to explain herself, she saw a shinigami in uniform. With a sigh, she gave a brief apology before taking off, leaving the man in a state of confusion. It didn’t matter what that man thought if it meant that she could stay alive for another day.

 

If she could flash step, it would have been so much easier for her. Instead, she had to deal with the maze of streets and alleys which didn’t have someone who wanted to murder her for the sake of looking at them funny. Her tour through this scenic hell was complete with her accidentally backing herself into an alley. There were no shinigami directly in front of her, but she knew that if she didn’t hide herself, she’d be spotted in a matter of seconds. The only refuge she could have was a house besides her--even then, it looked shady enough for her to scoff at it being an actual _house_ \--and to save her soul, she slipped inside, making sure to close the door on the way in.

 

The house was absolutely fitting for this dump of a district: the scent of wood rot was violently overpowering, and she could hear the foundation creaking even as she stayed still. She kicked her sandals aside and beared it; this would have to be her sanctuary for now, like it or not.

 

Through the walls, she could hear a bunch of shinigami conversing about where she could have gone. After a bit of reasoning between them, complete with justifying that she would _never_ flee into a building, they walked away, and she sighed in relief. Her troubles were over.

 

Or so she thought.

 

Yoruichi recoiled as the lights turned on, the room much more clear and exposed. As she saw that the lights were no more than a bunch of candles, it felt slightly unsettling. What was more unsettling, however, was the person who lit all those candles without her noticing. She was surprised that she hadn’t noticed him before. He was a behemoth of a man, at least a foot taller than she was, and was built entirely out of muscle. Without her powers, she was pretty much a toothpick. She clutched onto her cloak just a bit more, squeezing it around her frame. It was pretty much the last thing she had on her.

 

“Excuse me, ma’am.” He spoke in a bellowing bass-baritone which made her freeze on the spot, her hands shaking. She had no idea whether or not this man was friendly or not, and she could only pray that he was the former. If he weren’t, she was in for a world of pain. Maybe if she acted friendly, then chances were that she could get away with spending a night in peace.

 

“Oh, hey. I didn’t see ya there.”

 

He didn’t move. He was not friendly.

 

“I, uhh, can I stay the night?”

 

He huffed, and slowly, his gaze hit her face. After a few moments, that unwavering, bitter countenance creaked into a smile. He crossed his arms across his chest and leaned over her, fully knowing that his intruder was indeed a woman.

 

“Take off the cloak. We need to check you for weapons.”

 

Slowly, she released her cloak from the clutches of her shaky hands and threw it off her shoulders, letting it fall to the ground. There were no weapons on her; the only thing left clinging to her body was her battle leotard, and this man was busy drinking up her curves. He liked. Even worse, he loved. She felt her gut tie into a knot as she heard him whistle in approval.

 

“Looks good. Now, for a place like this, you’re going to need a bit of money to stay the night.”

 

For a dump like this, Yoruichi would have thought otherwise; hell, she never even considered asking for any when she went to talk with Urahara. Yet, all of her money was lost on her expedition to this district, and to carry what she didn’t absolutely need seemed useless. She froze at the realization that she was screwed.

 

“Yeah, a slight problem. I don’t have any money on me right now. Are you sure there isn’t another way to pay?”

 

As she watched him lick his lips, she knew she made a very grave mistake. She turned around and before she could take a step forward, his arms were around her waist and his chest pressed against her back. His groin pressed against her lower back, and he started rocking, letting her feel against her leotard that, even if he was huge underneath that robe he was wearing, he was still soft.

 

Very soft.

 

She heard him snicker, his hands slowly digging into her abdomen.

 

“I can think of another.”

 

Panic filled her eyes as she uselessly struggled to get out of his grasp; the only person budging at all was herself. She wanted out, a way to leave, but there was no getting out of his grasp unless she could think her way through this.

 

“Is there another place in the area where I could crash!?”

 

“No, cutie. This is the only hotel in the district. So if you want to get some sleep here, you’re going to be doing it here.” She squirmed as she felt his breath grazing her neck, and she caught whiff of whatever made it so foul. Looking around, it was almost a surprise anyone could call it a hotel, with the garbage all around; it was clear that he smoked, and even worse, it was almost too clear that he smoked inside. Cigarettes were on his breath. His lips drew uncomfortably close to her ear, and he whispered into it, “with me.”

 

Before she could try to break his grasp, one of his hands moved upward from her abdomen to her tit. He palmed it, letting it disappear behind his large hand. Weighing it, he gave it a squeeze, taking in the desperate cry that left her. He loved every moment of it, feeling how fleshy and real it felt underneath his hard, calloused palm. All of her panicked motions, too, created a delicious friction, one that manifested itself in the slight swelling of his prick. He, too, rocked his hips against hers, and another moan came from her, one that was a cry for help.

 

“Moaning already, cutie? All I’m doing is fondling your tits.” He dug his fingers into her, and if he had any fingernails that would have spelled the end of that leotard; it struggled enough to stay on her body, and even then it was nothing more than a thin, rubbery barrier protecting what he loved so much about her to his gaze. However, his hands were more lucky: securing his thumb against her underarm, his fingers pulled away from her breast, only to poke against the delicious expanse of breast uncovered by that leotard.

 

“No!” She screamed, but before she could continue, his lips pressed against hers. He didn’t give two shits about what she wanted anymore. He stuffed her mouth full of his tongue, letting the taste of cigarettes and other unpleasantries fill her mouth. He left no part of her mouth untouched, lathering every nook he could with his saliva; she was his, and nobody could tell him otherwise: not even her. She tried pulling away, but before she could, his hand slipped underneath her leotard, greeted almost immediately by an erect nipple grazing against his fingertip. He pulled away, if not only to taunt.

 

“You say no, but your body says yes.”

 

His lips crashed against hers again, and as much as she wanted to fight, she couldn’t. She felt almost too weak in his grasp to be able to do anything, and as he palmed her again, with that strong, calloused palm against her skin, she felt humiliated, defeated: if she hadn’t drank that potion, she would have escaped and the man taking her like some sex toy would have been dead. Now he was rocking against her and he was very pleased in how her tit felt against his hand. She groaned, desperate to get a word out, even if she was being choked by his tongue; it was to no avail, and in her physical struggling, she found him grounding against her motions, feeling that undeserving prick pressing against the small of her back at highest and dipping ever so slightly into the crevice of her ass cheeks at lowest.

 

If she had any intention of fucking him, she would have loved it.

 

And even then, her body was acting against its best interests; his free hand sunk between her legs, and he groaned as he felt just how hot she was underneath that leotard. She was wet; all this fondling had left her wet. She moaned into his mouth as he prodded at her sex, the sound of how she squished against his fingers, too, resonating in their ears. He didn’t need to taunt when her pussy spoke for him. Her juices were coaxed out with his teasing fingers, resting along the inside of her leotard, and as his fingers dug deeper, some started seeping out of the garment and dripped down her inner thighs and finding purchase against his hand. He pulled away from her lips, chuckling menacingly.

 

“God, you’re _really_ getting turned on by a man doing this to you.”

 

His lips smacked against the side of her neck, suckling just enough to draw a moan where her reply would have been. Primal urges were fighting her ever-faltering scraps of reason. When he dug those fat fingers into her folds, she wanted to grind against them; when he rubbed his cock along her back, she wanted to give in just a bit, but that wasn’t even close to something that she, as a person wanted. She was better than that, better than just being a sex toy for some ugly stranger in some shitty district.

 

“You can’t!”

 

Her pleas were met with a rough slap to her cunt, immediately snuffing her with another moan. She was to be putty in his hands no matter what, and before she could start taking again, his hand twisted her breast, and her voice cracked with pain-filled pleasure; all of her attention was on how he threatened to finger-fuck her that she forgot that this bastard was taking his sweet time fondling her.

 

“I will.”

 

And with that, he pulled aside her leotard, watching her shiver pathetically as her hot, dripping cunt was exposed to the outside air and drooled all over his hand. She knew what was going to happen, and in spite of how horny she was, she was going to fight every bit she could before he even dared of sticking a…

 

“Oh, fuck!”

 

With two fingers shoved up her cunt, she forgot what she was thinking, except that she wanted him out of there. Her hips always pulled up, and in response, his fingers pushed as far as they could, making as much of her tight entrance as possible; he was enamored with making sure that she _knew_ that her body was his. And he shlicked her, filling the air with the scent of her sex as his fingers glistened with her quim. His thumb toggled her clit, feeling it buzz with every thrust into her, and he adored just how tightly she squeezed around his fingers.

 

And before either of them knew it, she came on his fingers, spraying them with her quim. As it pooled in his palm, he squeezed her breast, languishing all those beautifully sinful noises she made; hopefully after that first orgasm, she would at least appreciate all the effort he was putting into fucking her. That wasn’t any further from the truth: she hoped that sole orgasm was all she needed to show that she paid her dues. And even in her haze, she whimpered as she felt his hand moving around her body. He still wasn’t done with her, but he instead found a new area for his damp hand to appreciate: her ass.

 

His fingers dug into the dark, ample expanse of her ass, feeling it pool out from between his digits. If he loved how her breast felt, he absolutely adored her ass, giving it the same care that he gave her tit. He milked unwarranted moans from Yoruichi like she was turgid with pleasure, lathering her quim into her cheek as if it were massage oil. His hands were too busy with adoring her body, and it took him a few seconds to realize that she could escape; his grasp weakened significantly, and if she weren’t recovering from an orgasm, she would have taken the opportunity to do so. He pressed her up against a wall, her cheek smashed against the wood, and let his hands continue to take in her sides, appreciating how well-toned the flesh of his new fucktoy felt.

 

There was one area left for him to discover, hidden underneath that battle leotard which fit snugly between her ass cheeks like a strand of floss. Yanking it aside, he frowned: her ass was too full for her puckered entrance to be revealed without any aid, and with that, he grasped onto her wrists. She tried fighting, but he fought back harder, crashing her hips against the wall as he brought her hands to her ass, making sure her fingers dug into her crack.

 

“Spread.”

 

Yoruichi didn’t. She tried to pull her hands away from her ass, but that was met with a smack to the cheek followed by her head being smashed into the wall. She cried in pain, and he spoke again, repeating his command. Knowing that he would keep doing that until she passed out, she unwillingly spread her ass, revealing that deliciously tight asshole, one which he intended fully to ruin.

 

One which he ruined immediately by digging those fat, quim-soaked fingers into it and fingering her with reckless abandon. Her cries of how he wouldn’t fit be damned, and her cries about how her asshole would tear from his roughness fell on deaf ears. All he wanted was to hear her moan, even cry if she had to; he adored how tight her ass was, and even more surprisingly, with how clean it was.

 

“You even made sure to clean it out. I didn’t expect someone crying _no_ so much to be a big enough whore to make sure her asshole’s clean enough for my dick.”

 

Tears streamed down Yoruichi’s face as he spoke. Never in her life had she felt so humiliated. Even if it was her first time, and her ass was almost unable to take the abuse from his fingers, she adored it, adored something as disgusting and depraved as _this_ , and just being told how much of a whore she was for liking it in some way made her whole body disgusted. She wasn’t a whore. She couldn’t be like this.

 

Even if he was tearing moans out of her with each thrust, she wasn’t _like_ this.

 

A wave of relief crashed through her as those fingers left her asshole, leaving nothing but the slickness of her quim against her walls lingering. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it certainly ached. She whimpered in humiliation for a few moments before coming to, and she realized exactly what was happening.

 

“I’ll kill you.”

 

His response was to slam her against the wall, the resounding thud accompanied by a pain-filled whine. Even if she portrayed it as a threat, he didn’t care.

 

“That’d be a gift in these here parts,” he grunted. As his hand left her lower body, she let out a sigh of relief, only for it to be immediately snuffed as she felt something else pressing against her ass: his dick pressed against her, at full mast, and the only thing she could think of was its size. She knew about dicks, but never had she considered that she’d be dealing with one so big; he struggled to fit it between her ass cheeks before rocking, letting her feel its entirety. She clawed at the wall, desperate to find a hand hold or anything to keep herself steady.

 

“But if you’re going to kill me, I’ll die knowing I took your ass for myself.”

 

Before she could formulate a response, his tip pressed against her puckered entrance, and her ass didn’t give. He leaned in, pressing her against the wall while pushing, _pushing_ that tip into her, slowly breaking through the breaches of her passage before thrusting upwards. In one thrust, after she took in his tip, he bottomed out, and Yoruichi cried, screaming for help which wasn’t coming and which would never come.

 

And just to add insult to injury, he stuck those fingers, the ones that he shoved into her pussy and crammed into her asshole, into his mouth. She tried biting, but with each bite he squeezed her tit and thrust into her, making sure that she felt every bit of pain he could give her for disobeying.

 

Yoruichi squirmed helplessly against her captor, each thrust filling her and digging into reaches she didn’t know exist. Her pussy throbbed, boldly against her. With each push into her, her hips crashed against the wall, with just enough of a threat for her clit to press up against that splintery surface. She was nothing to him but a toy worth throwing around and pressing into wherever he wanted; to demean, harass, and fuck.

 

“You’ve never had anyone fuck your ass, have you?”

 

Of course nobody had; only someone in a district this disgusting would ever consider doing something like that. Yet, in his tone, it was something he was almost boastful of, and in the comments that followed--about how he would make this ass feel as rubbery and smooth as an actual pussy, and how it fit so deliciously tight around his dick--he proved himself. As much as those comments rang true--her ass felt like it would tear from the sheer size of his cock at any moment, even with those fat fingers in her mouth prepping her--she wished it weren’t the case.

 

“Mmph.”

 

She murmured around his fingers what was supposed to be a “no,” but she lacked the energy to do so; her body, against her will, wanted him to keep going. Her pussy throbbed hotly against the wall while her ass squeezed around his cock, trying to milk him as if he was fucking her cunt. She could feel every pulse of his dick, tempting to release at any second, but as each moment led into the next, she knew that his threats were empty: he had a lot more stamina to go before he’d finish.

 

She, however, wasn’t so lucky. He let go of her tit and smashed her against the wall, pinning her breasts against the wall while bringing that hand down towards her engorged folds. He let out a chuckle as he prodded at her clit, hot and sticky with arousal. He had more ammunition for his humiliation while he plucked at her clit, absolutely adoring how tightly her ass squeezed around his cock whenever he did so; he made no effort of slowing down to accommodate.

 

“I’ll make your mind love this cock as much as your body loves it.”

 

In case it wasn’t already humiliating enough for her, she felt a wave of pleasure rack her body, her legs growing numb for a second. His words were almost enticing enough for her to cum right then and there, which he duly noted and made sure to emphasize in his further teasings. In between his grunts he kept talking, condescending, about how his cock was making her body into a toy, and the pride that leaked from his voice with every word made her want to cry in shame. There was no reason for her to be enjoying this, mentally or physically.

 

Yet, that wave of pleasure came back in full force. She cried out in almost blissful agony as she felt her cunt squeeze dangerously against nothing before spraying quim all over the wall and floor, and against his fingers. What was once relatively gentle rubs plucking at her bud were now hard slaps, filling the air with slaps which sounded like wet, fleshy spanks, all while mixed in with her now-meaningless scream-babbles and his taunts. In the cloud of lust hazing her mind she could hear him talking about how she kept saying no and yet she was squirting like a firehose. Even if she was, she hated every moment of it, and she hated her body for betraying her so and making her look like a whore.

 

And the bastard was _still_ plowing into her as if she didn’t cum already; he hadn’t, thus he saw no reason to stop. Hell, it felt like he sped up while she came. She looked back at him with tear-stricken eyes, disgusted by the lust-filled smirk on his face. She couldn’t resist anymore; her brain was much too foggy from that first orgasm still, and as his lips connected with hers, she couldn’t fight. All she could do was take it. She took in the disgusting taste of his tongue and how roughly it slathered hers with his saliva, ruthlessly pinning it to the corners of her mouth and forcing her to swallow every groan he made.

 

He pushed himself forward against her, slamming her entire body up against the wall while he kept thrusting. Yoruichi jostled against the wall in return, rubbing against it while she hoped that she didn’t get any splinters. Her body was unwilling putty between the wood and the rock-hard musculature of her captor, and even more unwillingly towards the hands which ran up and down her sides. No amount of screams nor moans could stop him; hell, they were music to her ears.

 

A hand returned to her clit, and those fat fingers rubbed it, trying to push the bundle of nerves back into her body. Her lower body was aflame and pulsing against her better judgment, only making that cock so busily rearranging her insides feel larger. She could only reassure herself that in spite of how horny she was, she felt awful, and that no amount of pleasure could possibly change the disgust running through her; that disgust grew tenfold as she felt his cock oozing hot precum inside her, scraping against her walls with each thrust. That bastard was so close to cumming, and perhaps the sole relief she could muster was that if he never left her ass, she wouldn’t bear his kid. Not even the fingers that ran through her hair seemed to relieve, especially as he grasped a good portion of her locks.

 

And he pulled. He pulled so hard that he accidentally broke his lip lock, but he didn’t care about that as much as he loved how she squealed in pain and, even better, how her body reacted. Her pussy shot a strand of quim in response, and her asshole tightened as if it became virginal once more; each push was accompanied by a new grunt, spreading her walls even if they didn’t want to be spread. She cried louder. He thrusted harder, fueled by her screams and how his cock was completely asphyxiated by her ass. Both of them could feel his prick pulsing inside of her, preparing to climax and fill her with seed. He leaned into her ear, his breathing heavy as his lips ghosted against her.

 

“Ready for a few months’ worth of semen?”

 

“No!” She howled, but it was too late.

 

He shoved his prick as far into her as he could, letting his balls slap against her taint, before he let loose inside of her. Hot ropes of cum filled her ass, each one trying to reach further into her than the last. Her legs quivered at all the heat that filled her, not helped by the groan of pure pleasure that filled her ear. It was the final insult: she was involuntarily defiled, and just to prove that he had done it, he shot strand after strand inside of her, marking her ass as his. The only thing she felt any bit happy about was how she felt his prick softening inside of her before he slipped out. She didn’t feel any better knowing that her ass didn’t close, and as some of his cum rolled out her ass and down her inner thighs, she whimpered.

 

He pulled away, and she fell limply to the floor, almost in defeat. She didn’t like this at all: she didn’t like how she felt powerless against someone whom she knew she could kill with a hand behind her back if she had her powers, nor did she like how she felt his cum swirling inside of her ass, and she especially hated how he laughed, in mockery, about all of this. And she didn’t like how he grabbed her by the nose and turned her towards his cock, covered in his cum.

 

“Clean it.” Her eyes widened as he said those words; she knew what he meant, and she almost gagged. He wanted her lips around that object which violated her ass for the last few minutes, and with his hand plugging her nose, she couldn’t just breathe through there. “And if you bite down on it I’ll snap your neck.”

 

Thus, the most humiliating time of her life was capped off by her licking off the taste of her ass from someone’s cock; it was a long fall from grace from where she was a week ago, where she was beloved by the Soul Society. She gagged at the bitter flavor on her tongue, and her gags grew more violent as he shoved his soft prick between her lips, making sure that she cleaned every inch of his cock in every way she could with her mouth. Tears streamed down her eyes like dollops of cum leaked from her asshole as she dutifully sucked, making sure not to do anything to upset him; once she were to have her powers back, then she would have time to perform her retribution.

 

After a few minutes of cleaning, once again, the man pulled her off and tossed her aside, filling the room with a resounding thud. He adjusted his robe such that his cock was hidden from her, and he turned around, laughing. That ugly voice filled the room again, talking about how the other patrons would love having her as a toy for the night. Her pleas were but lame gurgles as she watched him walk away, her lower body riding off the last waves of pleasure that she didn’t want.

 

  


* * *

Yoruichi needed to bathe.

 

The overwhelming feeling of filth from whoever that man was permeated through her body, now defiled. Even minutes after he left, and after cum stopped dribbling from her asshole, she felt gravitated towards a tub, or anywhere she could find which would clean her of this. She re-adjusted her leotard so she looked decent and stood up, her legs still shaky from _that_.

 

She walked around the perimeter of the building, her fingers grazing against the dilapidated wood grain. And as bad as the place looked, it smelled worse: it was as if this place stood atop a dump, and with what remnants of trash she kicked around with each step, she was bound to believe it. When was the last time this place saw any form of renovation? It crossed her mind for a moment that there might not even be a bath in a place as rancid as this, and considering how _disgusting_ that man was, she ended up wondering why she was looking for a bath in the first place. There was no chance that one existed in any of these final districts, and chances were the people just used the streets as their communal latrine…

 

...that was, until she found a door cleanly labeled with one word: _Bath_. Yoruichi let out a sigh of relief and leaned against the door, grateful that she had at least _one_ thing to look forward to in her stay here, considering that the accommodations were horrifying and the company even worse. Knocking on it, she awaited a response to see if anyone was inside. When she heard silence, she knocked again.

 

“Hello? Is anyone in there?” She asked. She didn’t want to ruin anyone’s privacy, and especially with that last guy, she didn’t really want to _see_ anyone else who resided here. Once again, though, it was silent, and she slowly opened the door, revealing, to her surprise, an actual bath. She walked in and closed the door behind her, and the only people inside were her and her reflection, surprisingly clean considering how dirty the rest of the place was. It didn’t matter if the water was pristine or not: she needed something clean enough to cleanse her of that bastard’s sickening semen. She peeled off her leotard and threw it aside.

 

Dipping her toes in the water, she realized that the water felt grimey, as if the surface of the water was more a slimy compound than it was actual water. She shivered with disgust, but the feeling of the final beads of that man’s cum dribbling out her asshole and down her thigh felt worse; she jumped in without much of a hitch. Even as the grime seemed to coat her body, at the very least, that feeling of sin felt like it was washing off of her, and for at least a moment, she felt safe. She felt as safe as being in a trench during warfare where, at the very least, she could only pray that she had any form of safety.

 

That was, until she started hearing someone chuckling. Then someone else started, and another. They were all behind the door, but she could make out one of the people’s voices instantly. That voice molested her ear the same way those hands molested her body and that dick molested her anus. She never got his name, but she knew it was trouble.

 

“And did you hear that we have a new toy here?”

 

She wanted to come down from the effects of that pill and be able to use her powers; even if she had been found by Shinigami, it felt _much_ more honorable to die than to have lost everything else before her life. And that’s what she had in this dump: she was nothing but a toy, a living, breathing, toy.

 

“Oh, really now! Is she hot?”

 

“Damn right she is! Tall, dark, muscular; you know, _your_ type?”

 

“Oh, damn! Does she obey well?”

 

“Not yet, but I think you’ll be able to put a bit of sense into her.”

 

“How’s her pussy feel?”

 

“Yeah, yeah! And what about her ass?”

 

“I didn’t fuck her pussy, but it looks tight and definitely fuckable. Her ass is out of this world, though.”

 

“Goddamn, if that’s true, then I’m definitely going to cum buckets inside of her ass!”

 

Her gut plunged out of her body when she overheard this: the only thing she could really do now was pray that nobody else needed to take a bath. Hell, in this water, she didn’t even know if she could consider this place to be a bath. She listened on, dipping further into the water until the only part of her body which was exposed was her head.

 

“Where is she?”

 

“I dunno, she was right here a few minutes ago. Maybe she went into hiding.”

 

“You telling me that she _didn’t_ crawl with you like a pet? Man, I love it when they play difficult!”

 

“Where could she be then?”

 

“Maybe the bath!”

 

Yoruichi dipped into the water as she heard that, holding her breath for as long as she could. She didn’t even want to consider that there were more sick fucks hungry to take a piece of her body and that they were slowly closing in on her location. And as she heard the rumbling of the door opening, she gave a silent prayer, knowing that they were hungry to get her. The water gave no good camouflage, and she remembered that she left her leotard out there, giving them something that signified that someone was there. Her heart raced, and she let out a gasp, her bubbles immediately reaching the surface.

 

Yoruichi’s eyes widened as she watched three men lean above the pool and downward, staring directly at her. One was tall and muscular; one was shorter and stocky; one was lanky. All of them, however, had bad teeth and were tanned by meticulous hours spent in the sun. Her legs quaked in fear, conjoining for one final moment because she knew that in a few minutes, they would be in the pool with her and her legs would be spread, and she’d be accommodating cocks in her unwanting holes again.

 

She could only watch them mouthing to one another, her eyes reddening by the second as they prolonged contact with the water. Her hands balled into fists; what kind of garbage was even _in_ this water, anyway?

 

_Hey, check out the swimsuit! She came here_ wearing _that?_

 

_Forget the swimsuit, dude! Check out this piece of meat in the bathtub!_

 

_This must be the new fucktoy! God, she’s fucking hot!_

 

_Meat?_ Was that all she was to them--oh wait, she knew the answer; the answer to that question previously made her ass sore and leak out cum. Now, the answer to that question kept her heart pounding, _pounding_. She swore her heart alone was making waves along the surface of the pool, even when she tried to stay as still as possible, hoping that she would disappear underneath that surface of grime and she could be anywhere besides there, stuck with two large men starting to undress as if it was their turn to start bathing in the rancid waters.

 

She knew that they weren’t coming in to bathe; only someone who was filled with shame would bother doing something like that. They were hungry fishermen, and their now-exposed, semi-erect cocks were their fishing spears, desperate to jab their prey and take it for themselves. Those dicks poked into the water, trying to come into contact with her, or at the very least, get her to move.

 

To make matters worse, she needed air; she couldn’t calm herself knowing that this would be the second time tonight this kind of shit was going to happen to her. And the pool was too small for her to do anything other than watch them senselessly poke into the water, prodding aimlessly. If she were bereft of shame, and some whore whose livelihood was dedicated to the adoration of dick, and only then, would it have been any bit hot. If she could have air, she would have gagged.

 

She came up for air, and she gasped, her mouth wide as she took in as much air as her body would allow. She shut her mouth immediately as she watched one of the men standing trying to thrust his cock into the gaping entrance. She wasn’t going to let it happen again to her. Just once was more than enough to last a lifetime. She grasped the dick and gave it a squeeze in annoyance.

 

“What were you thinking? Shouldn’t you ask for _permission_ first?” She asked with a cocky raise of her eyebrow. Such words were replied with a slap across her face by the stocky man.

 

“We gots all the permission we need. Boss says that there’s new fuckmeat in town, and don’t you look ripe and pliant. Says you need a place to stay but gots no rent.”

 

He grabbed her nose and pinched it shut, and he faced her so that she was directly in front of the cock she squeezed. His size was outright daunting, and she didn’t even know _how_ it was going to fit into her mouth. If it could, it would stretch her lips out and possibly destroy her jaw in the process, but the chorus of piggish grunts showed just how much everyone cared about that besides her.

 

“You should says ah, fuckmeat. This guy’s been waiting months for some fuckmeat to fuck raw.”

 

She hissed, unable to give him a glare because of his death grip on her nose. This whole procedure wasn’t going to work out; the sound of breath rushing through clenched teeth filled the air: she was not going to open her jaw for him, no matter what.

 

That _was_ the plan, until the lanky man pulled a bar of soap from behind his back. If there wasn’t going to be any forcing her to open her mouth like that, there was at least his idea: he slipped into the pool and wrapped his arms around Yoruichi, immediately yanking her into his lap and out of the other man’s grasp.

 

“Don’t you get it? She doesn’t want to be dirty. She wantsa be clean! Don’t worry, cutie, I’ll make sure to clean you up good.”

 

It came almost as a surprise that, in spite of his erection grazing her inner thighs, he actually began with a bit of decency by rubbing soap into her shoulders, albeit terribly. It was evident nobody in this room bar her had any sense of hygiene. Before she could come up with a sarcastic quip, however, his hands immediately found unsavory places: the soap was in her lap, his thumbs were tucked in her underarms, and his fingers were against the sides of her breasts, pushing them together just to make them bigger.

 

“I was thinking maybe she wantsa bar of soap _here_ ,” he laughed like a hyena, grinding his cock into her. She felt every pulse it made and how it grew larger, almost like he was also the size of the other thugs; she forgot about how her throat could have been destroyed if _this_ man was planning on pushing her uterus next to her heart inside her. Even worse, though, were his hands digging into her, making those breasts bigger and more alluring to both the other men. One of them was so inclined as to press his cocktip between her tits, letting her feel the boiling heat that filled his raging dick.

 

“I’ll give you some liquid soap, fuckmeat,” one of them bellowed. She let out a hiss: there was the ever-present threat of that cock in front of her face ready to destroy her if she dared unclench her jaw.

 

“Man, you’re gonna waste your sperm on _coating her tits_ with it? Look at her! Her body’s prime fruit for fucking!” Yoruichi jumped at the bickering from behind her, and before she knew it, she was plunged into the depths below, with the back of her head nuzzled against this stranger’s penis. Her lower body, however, was exposed, and this man was busy parting her legs as far as they could go without injury.

 

The bathers marveled as her rosy petals parted flawlessly, adorned perfectly with a rosy, throbbing clitoris _begging_ to be touched. Yoruichi could only resort to making out the mouthing of her captors.

 

_God, me first!_

 

_Get out of the way. I saws it first!_

 

Before she became too ingrained in the conversation, a pair of lips smashed against hers, belonging to that lanky man. She tried to pull away, but he dug a hand into her hair, pulling her towards his face and keeping her there. He pulled her out of the water and kept kissing her, his other hand sliding down to her now-submerged privates, where he gave her a fondle. Her pussy radiated warmth and twitched at the touch, but she screamed into his mouth.

 

“No!”

 

He pulled away with a frown.

 

“The owner said we could if we wantsa. We wantsa see how good of fuckmeat you are, and I don’t get why you’re fighting so hard.”

 

His cock rubbed against her folds, chuckling as he felt her clit twitching against him. “And besides, you’re wetter than a sponge! Don’t it feel good?”

 

Before she could respond, she let out a wail, feeling her pussy be spread wide by dick, _his_ dick. The bathwater rose and fall around her as he started pistoning inside of her, not caring at the screams and cries she let out. It hurt; he was too big and she was being spread far beyond what was comfortable. But for him? She was tight as a fantastically muscular virgin piece of fuckmeat could ever be. He was in heaven while dragging her through hell.

 

And even if the sounds of her crying was a turn-off to him, the muscular buddy of his made sure to quiet her down by forcing her to choke down his cock. An overbearing stench filled her nostrils; allegedly, with someone one loved, it was supposed to taste fantastic, as opposed to whatever disgusting body scent filled her head. She gagged and choked on him, her jaw slack and as forced open as possible; she was only able to breathe during the split-seconds where only his tip occupied her mouth as he, too, started jackhammering her.

 

She could only sob as the two sawed away at her, finding a rhythm which bobbed her from cock to cock. Her breasts swayed like the waves at her hips until a pair of hands grasped her there; she didn’t know who groped her. The squeezes made her whimper around the cock in her mouth, fueling the dick in that mouth to push further and desecrate her throat. Whimpers turned into gags and gags into muffled noises as he pushed further. The man below pressed into her and kept sawing away, almost fighting to see if she could still moan even if there was a cock suppressing her throat. Her head spun; she was growing lightheaded from the dick choking her out, and besides her distended throat, the only thing she could feel was her pussy being brutally spread.

 

At the very least, there was something slightly akin to a hint of mercy: the lanky guy didn’t have a lot of strength in him, and he immediately started spurting in her, making sure to fill the walls he senselessly defiled with his mark; she shed tears at the heat, knowing that she was forever soiled by some disgusting man down there as well, a heat which was only better than torture devices making sure her death was suffering. His cock popped out of her, soft, and globs of white cum rose to the surface and his body fell limp against the side of the tub. At the very least for that moment, he was done, and she could relax her hips for a moment, and she could bask in that some of the cum was leaking out of her in a creampie.

 

She forgot about the stocky guy, but he didn’t forget about her at all. His hands grasped her hips, and with a chuckle, he pulled her out of the water, making sure that the only thing that she was connected to still was her lips around the other guy’s dick. He pulled her head away from his cock, watching as the spittle-coated shaft left her throat and eventually her mouth, until it was all unsheathed and strands of saliva were left proving that she was dutifully sucking at him. As those broke, the man whined, not caring about how Yoruichi was gasping for air, or how her bottom lip was swollen and dripping saliva down to her breasts.

 

“And what was _that_ for?”

 

“I wants you to sits down.”

 

He did, and he also laid down at that, with his cock pointing at the sky. Yoruchi’s face met it again, aided by the stocky man’s hand, and her face was smeared by the saliva that coated his cock. He also made sure that she was on her knees, and the bubble of her ass was in his direction. A bubble he made sure to spread, and even though he was greeted to the sight of two entrances drooling cum, he was undeterred. Hell, he chuckled at the sight, making sure to add an insult to her injury.

 

“I thinks you’re ready for a cock that’s really gonna spreads ya.”

 

He hovered his tip against her pussy’s entrance, soaked and ready to take in something. Yoruichi whimpered, reflexively bucking her hips away from him. He drawled his dick across her taint and to the slightly-gaping entrance between her ass cheeks; he pushed, thinking that the slight gape would give him a bit of leeway into her, but her asshole stayed as shut as it was before. Her cries, too, were much louder when he pressed against her ass, and his decision was made: ass it was. He spread those cheeks open, and against his dick, he watched as she tried to escape, leaning into the other man. The last thing she wanted was to have her ass mangled again, and she downed the rest of the cock in her mouth trying to escape. Mangled gags left her mouth as she tried to push further, with no avail, and her ass was fully exposed, with nowhere to go.

 

His tip pressed into her, and he sunk his weight into her. Her asshole spread as she accommodated his tip, and a muffled sob filled the room as she had her ass once more violated by cock. She would have preferred the dick prior; even with her ass filled prior, she felt that her ass was being filled _much_ more than before. That unwashed cock scraped areas she didn’t know existed, places that would have made her spasm with enjoyment if she enjoyed the men she was fucking. She squeezed lamely around his cock, and the sound of piggish laughter once more filled her ears.

 

“I wouldn’t have guesseds a girl like you would have _liked_ taking it in the ass, but Boss was right. You seems to _love_ a big dick fucking your ass.”

 

She was unable to respond; her mouth was completely occupied by cock, choking her out and leaving her lightheaded with a taste of disgust on her tongue.

 

“Considers that other guy a warm up.”

 

Before she could register what he meant, his hips started pistoning into her, restarting the process she was all too-familiar with. Hands grasping her hips, she whimpered; when she tried to wiggle away, those hands squeezed and spanked her.

 

“I can go all night with a piece of fuckmeat like you, and whether you like it or not, that’s what I’m gonna do to you.”

 

Yoruichi grasped onto the other man’s hips, hoping that he was lying, and this wasn’t even mentioning the dick lodged in her mouth, smearing his precum all over.

 

  


* * *

His words rang true. He did go all night and then some. Hell, Yoruichi couldn’t remember how long she had been _in_ this dump acting like a cum-dumpster for these men, but it finally took a toll on her resolve. The motions were the same as they always were, with her sandwiched between two hunks of muscle pistoning her between them, leaving her a jiggly, cum-stained ragdoll. There was no more believing in someone special that could possibly touch those places first, let alone ever: the amount of sex she had in the past few days made her weak, and in the few hours of the night where she could get sleep without the fear that she’d be dicked down again, she sobbed.

 

And when she was woken up like how she was, by being used in this disgusting fashion, she sobbed louder. She once heard that sex was supposed to be pleasurable, and even the first time she had it, it felt somewhat okay; she knew now that was a total lie. It was just motions for her now, motions that left her sick and whimpering and useless; motions that only the guys liked.

 

Not to mention how nobody cared to know her. She wasn’t Yoruichi; at the very least, the Shinigami would have called her that, or something about her past, or _anything_ which wasn’t _fuckmeat_ or _fucktoy_ or some name like that.

 

_Slap!_

 

Yoruichi cried as one of her captors slapped her ass, hastily colored a darkish blue by the many hands which slapped her there before; the cock in her mouth diluted the cry into another gag, and she could only whimper as they kept going. All the other hands on her body, too, were fondling and grasping all over, slapping and squeezing at marks that were red at best and very much bruised at the very worst.

 

She was worn, and her pussy was pulsing with overstimulation around the cock filled inside of her. It didn’t matter to him; he kept sawing away, the rawness of the walls surrounding him almost a bonus. Praises of how wet and tight she was filled her ears, disgusting words which meant no meaning other than she was doing great for something she didn’t want to be. She would rather be dead, and a loud cry against the cock in her mouth reflected that if it weren’t for it being muffled into another whimper. She knew either way it didn’t matter, and all she wanted was for something to happen, for one of them to release.

 

She wanted it to be over, even if it meant she had to drink another load of cum or be creampied again. She just wanted to continue sleeping.

 

Her wishes came true. A heated load filled her mouth, sticky and hot and tasting almost putrid. She choked strand by strand of his cum down; lord only knew how long it had been since he last came to anything besides his dreams. Whimpers and swallows filled the air as hotter tears streamed down her cheeks; the taste made her want to puke, but she didn’t even want to know what the punishment for disobeying the implicit order of swallowing his load would entail. Then, the other man came, the feeling of him pulsing the only thing that her cum-numb walls could register. She panted, glad that she was finally able to get a bit of relief from being a piece of fuckmeat, but there was one issue that immediately formed.

 

They collapsed on top of her, and when they finally got adjusted and started sleeping, one was spooning her and the other had his cock between her breasts, softly grazing the chunks of dried cum in her cleavage. She had nowhere to go, and there was always the ever-looming threat of her waking either of them up.

 

Memories flooded her brain of the first night she stayed at this hellhole, where she made the mistake of sleeping sandwiched between two people. Just by snoring, she accidentally woke up one of them, and immediately that issue escalated relentlessly until she was a quivering, twitching mess with her holes leaking fresh cum. She didn’t want that to happen; she couldn’t count the amount of unwanted orgasms that wracked her aching body, nor could she count the hours of rest she had during her stay (even though she knew she could count the number using solely her fingers).

 

She wanted out. Hell, she needed out. She would have preferred the death by soldiers over this in any capacity. No matter how slowly she’d die, no matter how much pain she had to go through before her sweet release: no matter what, that sweet release was better than what she had become. She was punished and exhausted. She wished she could flash-step all around the apartment and slaughter those who did this to her, even if that meant awakening the Shinigami and revealing her location to them.

 

At least then she would die with honor as opposed to staying alive entirely debased.

 

She held her breath, trying to break her pattern of panting, as she felt the man against her chest slowly rocking his hips between her breasts. She didn’t know if it was supposed to feel good in the first place, but how that saliva-coated cock grated against her aching, bruised skin made her want to whimper. It hurt; it wasn’t erotic at all, but the biggest threat for her was letting out any noise and waking them up. 

 

She held in a gag, accidentally pushing out her chest _just_ that much for her breasts to be an alternative fuckhole. She winced, preparing for the worst, but for once, she was granted mercy: the man pulled himself downward, his cock smearing her chest and tummy alike with her saliva before his tip came to rest against her clit. And with a slight adjustment, she was sandwiched between the two men who fucked her, and her hips were adjusted so that one tip pressed against her cunt and the other rested on her asshole. The last thing she wanted was to try to have her pussy stuffed with two cocks when one alone spread her; the feeling of having both pussy and ass stuffed, too, was not a prospect that she wanted to try right now.

 

All she wanted to do was leave, but even if she wasn’t sandwiched so humiliatingly, there was another issue altogether: she couldn’t move. Being fuckmeat for literally days on end and being fed nothing more than garbage and cum during her time had taken a toll on her physical abilities, and she wasn’t sure if she could move even if she wanted to.

 

Even sobbing was exhausting, and it felt like the only thing she could do. She passed out, hoping that her snoring won’t wake up the others again.

 

She slept for long enough for her to dream, and her dreams were very much intertwined with the nightmare that she was living. Instead of the hard slabs of muscle whose cocks pressed nastily against her crotch, she was trapped in a cage far too small for someone like herself. One of the cage’s poles was between her breasts, and another was between her ass cheeks; her curves were exposed to anyone who can see. And there were a lot of people who could see her: she was being marched through all the districts she trespassed to get away from the Shinigami, and literally everyone she once knew was in the crowd, watching her be paraded. Hungry hands reached out to see if she could be grabbed or spanked before she became out of reach. She was being paraded for her body, and she couldn’t swat anyone: her hands were chained to the floor of the cage tightly enough for her to be unable to do anything with them. She was forced to watch people point and laugh and grab at her and all she could do was sob.

 

Even in her dreams, she dreamed of freedom.

 

She was rudely awaken by someone slapping at her cheek, and the first thing that filled her sight was someone’s face. It was a pleasant surprise; she was so used to having her gaze completely filled with someone’s semi-erect cock and being told to start sucking. She let out a whimper as she woke up, her arms barely able to support herself. Her eyes were full of defeat, yet, she tried to speak up, almost ready to fight in the case that the potion’s effects were wearing off.

 

It must have been at the very least a week since she was in this hellhole.

 

Better yet, she knew that the Shinigami would be able to completely destroy everyone in this house. Even if that meant there was a big chance that she would be killed or tortured beyond repair, it wasn’t something she wasn’t either used to or welcoming.

 

“I need to get out of here.”

 

“Why’s that, fuckmeat?”

 

“Because I’m a refugee from the Shinigami, and they’re still looking for me. Chances are they’ll find me here, and if you’re going to be so defensive on having me as fuckmeat, they’ll laugh while killing you.”

 

His eyes widened. “Well, we’ll just gives you to them when that happens, but I’ll tell Boss anyway.”

 

He pushed her away from himself and stood up, walking with a slight limp while muttering to himself about how life wasn’t fair at all, taking away the best fuckmeat in the world.

 

Yoruichi scoffed, muttering something to herself: _you’re one to talk, asshole._

 

She didn’t care if she heard him. She just hoped that the threat of death would be enough for her to have a bit of relief for the morning.

 

That was, until she watched someone else walk in.

 

 

* * *

 

“Hey, Boss!”

 

“What do you want, Tak?”

 

“Well, I was just going to says that the fuckmeat we have is wanted.”

 

The Boss scoffed. “Of course, fool. Everyone here wants a piece of that fuckmeat, and you know it!”

 

The sound of gagged moans, muffled through the wall, confirmed his claims.

 

“That’s not what I means, Boss! I mean she’s wanted. She’s a goddamn criminal!”

 

“How much she worth?”

 

“She didn’t tells me nothing! She tells me though that she’s not wanting to be caught!”

 

Their conversation was cut short by the sound of someone rasping at the door, almost as if it were contrived. They looked at each other and gulped.

 

“What if that’s them right outside the door, Tak? What if they’re gonna kill us for fucking her?”

 

“Boss, calm down. We’ll just _gives_ her to them and they’ll be happy about it. Think about it. We might get rich.”

 

Whatever panic was forming inside the Boss had calmed down, and it was almost as if there was bliss instead. Money meant that they could possibly start up a new life somewhere exquisite, like District 79 or 78, if they were that lucky. To him, the idea of getting paid a hefty sum was much more than what the fuckmeat moaning through the wall could possibly be worth.

 

“Did you say rich?”

 

Without so much as a second thought, the Boss headed over to the door and didn’t give a damn in tearing it off. The sight of robed figures as tall as he wasn’t even that terrifying to him, even considering that they could kill him with one weak blow.

 

“Do either of you know of a Shihoin Yoruichi?”

 

Both people from the inn looked at one another as if he was talking about a magical spell. They had gone days on end without getting to know her name; and instead, they just called her “Fuckmeat” for whatever tasks they so desired from her. In fact, “Fuckmeat” was their maid, chef, and cocksleeve. Shihoin Yoruichi meant nothing to them; Tak didn’t even have a family name.

 

“No. Who’s that?” Tak asked.

 

“Shihoin Yoruichi is a criminal trying to hide in this district for her troubles to the Soul Society, and she will be punished dearly when we find her.”

 

“What’s she look like?”

 

“She’s tall, dark-skinned, has purple hair…”

 

That description was enough for them to know exactly who they were talking about: “Fuckmeat!”

 

“Huh?”

 

Tak and the Boss walked into the building, and the Soul Society members followed suit after kicking off their sandals.

 

“We have a girl in here who’s been doing nothing but sucking our cocks like a whore here. We call her Fuckmeat, but she sounds a lot like this Shihoin Yoruichi.”

 

Once they reached the door of Yoruichi’s bedroom, they opened it, and let the Shinigami see exactly what she had devolved into from her time spent in the Inn.

 

Yoruichi’s throat bulged with someone’s cock, and her nose was pressed up against that man’s pubic bone. Sounds of gagging leaked from her clogged lips much like the spit dripping down her chin and onto the floor. Her dark skin was adorned with crusty splotches of white and blackish-blue spots across her body. Another member of the Inn was busy fondling her breasts while plowing into her ass. Nobody had noticed their entrance, and it seemed almost as if they didn’t care.

 

Except for Yoruichi, whose eyes grew even more red as she knew that her days were numbered. She didn’t care that she could leave: the Soul Society knew a punishment that would make her regret everything she ever did, and they were busy observing it while a thick load of spunk oozed from the cock in her mouth and down her throat, joining the countless others that swirled in her stomach. There was no mercy for her anymore; thoughts of this process being repeated indefinitely with Shinigami filled her mind, and she almost broke down then and there, sobbing openly as the man pulled his dick from her throat.

 

“Is this the Yoruichi yous was looking for?”

 

The men nodded, and one of them stepped up with a nasty grin on his face.

 

“She seems like she likes being with you guys.”

 

“I don’t! Please, kill me! I would rather have anything than this!”

 

Yoruichi’s words were all he needed to hear. A smile formed on his face as he adjusted his robe. They had done a good job wearing her down to the point of wanting death; now, even that was a mercy move, but it didn’t matter to him. What he wanted, instead, was to carry on that legacy those filthy-looking street punks showed him.

 

A legacy that started now.

 

He pulled off his cloak, and shoved his crotch directly into Yoruichi’s face. His cock rubbed against her face, his tip eagerly pressing against her lips. With a few frustrated thrusts, his brow started to furrow.

 

“Open wide!”

 

Yoruichi kept her mouth shut; the last thing that she wanted, even after sucking and swallowing down the cum of these thugs, was to be further ruined; and to be ruined by the Shinigami was even more insulting. At the very least, there was the false belief in hospitality from the thugs; she believed that one day, she would have been set free when they were done using her, when her pussy and ass were loosened up too much and her throat didn’t have any appeal anymore.

 

With them, it was going to be eternal punishment.

 

The man slapped her.

 

She had forgotten what someone with the powers of Shinigami was like; she was used to the slaps that everyone in this place gave out, and they were like butterfly kisses compared to the brute strength of those muscular monsters. She tasted blood, and as she coughed up a bit, trying to get used to its strong, metallic taste, something filled her mouth far nastier: the taste of Shinigami cock.

 

The countless days she spent suffering at the hands of these human pigs made her used to her throat being dicked down; what was unexpected, however, was the use of Shinigami power. Gone was the pistoning of hips in a reasonable tempo, or at the very least, one which someone without powers could muster. Instead came the push-pull of something far more sinister; it was as if each moment was a flash step, but instead of using it as a tool of escape, he either plunged as far as he could into her mouth, with his balls crashing mercilessly against her cheek, or her lips grazed his tip as if he were about ready to pull out. He alternated at a pace too quickly to comprehend, and those who stood around him (including the man who was busy plowing her ass, who was intrigued by what the Shinigami was doing), spectating as he claimed dominance of Yoruichi’s throat, could have sworn that he wasn’t moving at all.

 

Yoruichi felt every moment of it, however. It was fast enough that she wasn’t able to feel how his cock slipped past her throat, or how he yanked out: it was in one place or the other, and whenever he snapped back his dick, she drooled a bit more, until it spilled from her lips and, once more, she looked like a deviously slutty wreck.

 

As much as the Shinigami enjoyed his time in her mouth, how her mouth curled into a frown filled him with much more joy. His cock glistened with saliva, but he hadn’t started twitching truly until he saw tears streaming down her cheeks. She was defeated, humiliated by how he did that to her. There was no more decency in her world; it was settled that her punishment would be much of the same: her days would be those of a pornographic dystopia, where those who truly were _fuckmeat_ would have enjoyed their time and loved every single waking moment.

 

It didn’t matter that she didn’t want to be called that, nor did it matter that she wanted to be known as much more than that, and at the very least, be called by her name: Shihoin Yoruichi wasn’t her name anymore, but rather everyone found a much worse name for her, one which they all loved calling her.

 

Fuckmeat.

 

That’s all she was, and all she would be.

 

“I’d say that the best presents come tied up in rope, but I don’t feel like it’d be good to tie her up like that. She could get away, no matter how strong the knots.”

 

Even if her powers were diminished now, there was always that threat, and the Shinigami knew it too well; she was strong, and perhaps able to kill him if things went wrong. Using a rope was not the right thing to do. There had to be _something_.

 

“Maybe there’s somethings in the dungeon!”

 

Tak ran off without a hitch, and after a few seconds, Yoruichi turned to the Shinigami, with her legs wobbling. Standing was too much of a chore for her, even when nobody was touching her.

 

And when the Shinigami started touching her, it became infinitely harder.

 

Those cold, calloused hands ran down every curve of her body, scraping off the dried, excess cum off of her. He chuckled as he smoothed off the smooth, yet bruise-riddled, flesh, until his hands found purchase at the pinch of her waist. With a reach-around, her bruised ass was manhandled, with fingers digging into her and holding on as if he was trying to break her hips. She screamed, her legs growing weaker from how much pain seared through her ass.

 

“What’s the matter, _fuckmeat?_ Are you getting turned on by a man like me groping your ass? Have you become a slutty little whore at the hands of these sickening men? Don’t worry, we’ll make sure that you’ll be given _plenty_ of cock when we get back to where you’ll be taken.”

 

Yoruichi blubbered. She was at her limit; she didn’t want to hear any more of this.

 

“And we’ll make sure that we give you the best, _strongest_ Shinigami so that you can be given a fuck that your supple body deserves, and maybe we can fuck the brattiness out of you.”

 

“You wouldn’t!”

 

“We can, and we will.”

 

Before Yoruichi could respond, Tak was already back up, with a set of metal stocks. “Shucks that we couldn’t use these on Fuckmeat, but I guesses that yous will want it for when yous takes her home. She can bes a feisty one.”

 

With that, he opened up the stocks and waited.

 

Tak didn’t have to wait long. With a flash step from the Shinigami, Yoruichi was without support, and she immediately collapsed into the stocks with a whimper. Her time spent here was over, but she wasn’t able to give any sort of prayer. There was no relief in knowing that this was nothing more than a glorified sex slavery trade.

 

And the wad of cash that those ugly fuckers got for fucking her? Their eyes were all sparkling like there was something in their lives outside of their sadistic joy in fucking her senseless. As the stocks locked, Yoruichi could only think about the next people who would be foolish enough to end up in this hellhole of an inn.

 

The Shinigami’s two servants picked up the stocks and walked with her, forcing her into a march which would lead them outside and in public, for them all to enjoy. It was her final punishment, just watching as all of those cutthroats could look at her body and take in the sight of her curves; there was no moral fiber in these districts.

 

And thus, Yoruichi marched nude throughout the districts, and she knew that this was only the start of her punishment, one that would feel eternal.


End file.
